


Lulls in Conversation

by coreopsis



Series: Lost Horizons [3]
Category: Da Vinci's Inquest
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2000-04-21
Updated: 2000-04-21
Packaged: 2017-10-15 03:36:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/156628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coreopsis/pseuds/coreopsis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bobby. Angst.  Date.  Angst.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lulls in Conversation

Sometimes I get the impression that Dominic is as lonely as I am. Maybe it's how quickly he said yes when I asked him out for coffee or the way he smiled and asked me to join him for lunch after that interdepartmental meeting that neither one of us wanted to go to, but had to attend. Maybe I just know what loneliness looks like.

We've had a few coffees and lunches and that dinner the night we ran into each other at the hospital. I wonder if I could consider those dates? It might settle the butterflies that do aerial maneuvers in my stomach when I pick up the phone to call him. But I guess you can't consider a shared meal a date when the other person doesn't know you're thinking that way. That'd be wrong, wouldn't it?

I could just forget the whole thing, you know. Just write off any ideas of calling Dominic and asking him out as stupid and better left unexplored. But then, there are those vibes I've been getting lately.

He's done nothing overt to make me think he's interested in anything more than friendship, but there have been these signals that are so subtle as to possibly be all in my head. A look here, some body language there, a tone of voice, a turn of phrase...it's all very faint and elusive. How do I find out it if it really is all in my head without coming right out and asking, "Are you sexually attracted to me?" Damn, that sounds so clinical. How about, "Ever think about sleeping with a guy?"

It would be humiliating to get a response like "I'm not really into guys, Bobby, just women." I just don't know. It's not really something that's going to come up in a casual conversation. Just because I've always been flexible in choosing bed partners doesn't mean Dominic is. He was married for a long time, so he could be strictly straight, or just maybe he's more interested in the person than the gender.

Well, either way, I'm not going to find out by sitting here staring at the phone all night. I should just pick it up and call him. That's what I should do, just pick it right up and dial the number I somehow memorized the first time I looked at it.

On second thought, maybe it would be better to do this in person so I can see his expression when he says no. I could find some reason to swing by his office tomorrow, drop in casually.... Or maybe I should make an appointment? No, because then Helen would ask what I wanted to talk to him about and there's no way I'd want to tell her first. I can just imagine what she'd have to say. Oh yeah, that would be a big mistake.

It's getting late. He might already be in bed--don't go there, Bobby--I mean, he might already be asleep. I don't want to wake him up. That wouldn't be a nice thing to do. He might be cranky when he first wakes up, especially in the middle of the night.

I think I'd like to find out--but not by phone.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

 

"Helen. Is Da Vinci in?" I hope that sounded the right mixture of casual and professional. I think it did. She barely gave me a second look before she took off for his office, and now she's waving me in. Am I ready for this?

I better be ready, because there he is, looking at me curiously. As I sit down in front of his desk and wait for Helen to stop lingering in the doorway, he takes his glasses off. I wonder if that's so he can see me better or so that he can't see me as well? And which is worse?

"Bobby, this is good timing. I was just about to call you." Well, that sounds promising and that smile is definitely a good sign.

"Yeah? What's up?" I hope it's not work related. I don't want to get pulled into one of his homicides right now. I've got enough on my plate with my own cases.

Why is he looking over my shoulder so intently? When I take a quick glance, I don't see anything but Helen at her desk talking to that young guy. What *is* his name anyway? Ah, that's not important right now, especially when Dominic has switched his attention back to me, and when he pays attention, it feels like he sees clear down to your bones. It's oddly attractive, even though it can also be unnerving as hell.

"I was wondering if you were free for dinner tomorrow night." Now I know he didn't say what it sounded like. Nothing is ever that easy for me. Maybe I heard wrong.

"Did you say dinner?"

"Yeah. I know it's short notice but I have to go to this reception at the Four Seasons Hotel. It'll be over early and I thought if you wanted to go, we could have dinner someplace after."

"Couldn't you get a date?" I can't believe I just said that out loud. I'm being handed the very thing I came here for and I'm trying to screw it up. Fuck it, I might as well just lay my cards on the table. "Or is that what you're asking me for? Because if it is, I'll go--as long as it's not formal. I'm not wearing a tux for *anybody*."

"No tux, I promise. I--" He breaks off to answer the phone, and says a few words to Helen before he puts his hand over the mouthpiece. "I'm sorry, Bobby. I have to take this. Can you meet me here after work tomorrow? Wear a suit and yes, it is a date."

"Sure thing." Why did I bother to answer? He's already into his phone call, turning away to reach for a file on the corner of his desk. It's like someone flipped a switch marked 'professional'.

 

Something is definitely wrong with this scenario. I have a *date* with Dominic Da Vinci and he called it that. Yeah, I did come here to ask him out, but still... It shouldn't have been this easy, this quick. I expected to have to dance around the subject, to pretend a little that this was all just buddy stuff until I got some sign-- well hell, I got a sign all right. Interesting... Now all I have to do is not screw it up. I also need to get a handle on this anxiety that's making me want to turn around, go back to his office and tell him I'm busy tomorrow. This is stupid. It's just Dominic and it's just dinner, not exactly uncharted waters I'm sailing into, right? They're shark-infested waters, but not exactly somewhere I've never been before.

 

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

"You clean up real good there, Bobby." It's hard to resist the urge to look down and make sure I didn't forget anything important, but I manage through sheer strength of will. It's all I can do not rip the tie off before it strangles me and cram it in my pocket. I hate getting dressed up.

I want to return his compliment, but I can't. He looks too good for me to tell him, but then he always looks nice, very crisp and professional even with his sleeves rolled up and his jacket off. "Thanks. My all purpose funeral/wedding/go to court suit."

"I never would have guessed." He's got this twinkle in his eyes and a sly half smile so I know he's teasing, but I don't think he's actually making fun of me. He's not the type and even if he were I wouldn't care anyway. I probably do look like a kid on his way to church when he'd rather be playing in a mud puddle. He motions me into his office, and I'm drawn toward him like metal to a magnet. "Just let me clear up a couple of things and then we can go."

As Dominic goes back to shuffling papers and closing files on his desk, I take a seat and just watch him. I could fake interest in the books on his shelves or the pictures on his wall, the jazz posters, pictures of his daughter, and the kid-drawn portrait of him in his Dress Reds, but I don't. Why should I? It's pretty clear that he understands why I'm here. He wouldn't have asked if he didn't think I'd say yes. It was too offhand and confident for him to have been worried that I'd turn him down. He somehow must have guessed that my interest in him has deepened a little past friendship.

He keeps glancing up at me so I guess he knows I'm watching him, watching the way his hands move across the papers and folders, putting them in order. I like his hands-- strong and scarred and nobby knuckled. They're not the hands of a man who's spent his life behind a desk. Those are hands that have done a lot of things, and I can't help but wonder what they'd feel like. What would it feel like if he touched me with those hands? I close my eyes and think about it for a moment, the variations of touch and all the places that I'd like to feel them. It's probably way too soon to be having such thoughts. We haven't established even the beginning of that kind of relationship and we might not ever get to that point, unless Dominic has suddenly developed a taste for uncomplicated sex with a buddy. Somehow I don't see that happening.

"Bobby?" He says my name like he's said it before, and I look up to see him watching me with a slightly puzzled expression. He's standing to the side of his desk straightening his tie and his jacket. I was so caught up in my thoughts--fantasies--that I didn't even hear him get up. I gotta get a grip...and I really need to stop thinking such phrases because it's not helping at all.

I just need to take a deep breath and get my mind out of his pants and out of mine, or this evening will be very uncomfortable, maybe for both of us. I don't want him to get the impression I'm only interested in one thing. I've never been that way with anyone I've been with, male or female. Well, maybe a few times it was all about the sex, but that was a long time ago when I was younger and more hormonally motivated, wasn't it?

 

He politely asks if I want to drive, but I let him do it. Some guys make it a power struggle, but it's not important, not to me anyway. If he's driving, I don't have to pay attention to anything but him. Selfish, but effective.

Watching him in the shifting lights of the traffic, I have to wonder why he didn't get a real date. Did he try and I was a last minute substitute? If that's the case, how do I feel about it? Insulted or just glad to be eventually picked? Should I ask him?

"So were all your lady friends busy tonight?" Damn, did I just use the phrase 'lady friends'? When exactly did I start to turn into my dad?

"I didn't ask anyone else. I'm not sure I have anyone that I'd consider a lady friend right now anyway." He sounds matter-of-fact and he's not laughing at me. That is a very good sign.

"Oh, well then..." What else can I say? What else *should* I say? "I'm..uh...glad to hear that."

"You might not believe it, but you were the first person I thought of when I got the invitation, or rather the *order* to go to this thing. Probably because we've been seeing so much of each other lately. With work and all." His hands are restless on the steering wheel, which makes me think that he might be just as unsure of this as I am. But does he feel this same weird magnetic pull that I do?

"So what are we going to, anyway?" I ask the question just to hear him talk, and it takes the pressure off me to make conversation. This should be easier because of all the other times we've hung out, but it's not. It's as if all the rules have changed and I'm trying to catch up.

His voice is pitched a little lower than usual tonight--in deference to the enclosed space of the car or something else? Whatever the reason, I really like it. The sound just washes over me, until I'm absorbing the words more than listening to them. Feeling them on my skin instead of hearing them with my ears. I think I could get really turned on if he just told me bedtime stories in that low rumbly voice.

"...so Jimmy pretty much insisted that I make an appearance." What is he...? Oh yeah, visiting dignitaries from Ottawa, professional obligation, yadda yadda. I like the sound of making 'an appearance'. I hope that means we don't have to stay long. I hate these kinds of functions--they try to be a party, but never quite make it because nobody likes the other people there. Everybody's there because they have to be, not because they want to be. Well, I do. I want to be with Dominic and if it has to be at one of these boring city receptions, well, so be it. I'll take what I can get, especially since this thing saved me from having to ask *him* out.

I've never had occasion to visit the Four Seasons, and I can honestly say that I never really expected to, unless it was in the course of an investigation. It's very...what's the word? Posh? Yeah, that's close enough. It's the kind of place that'll have me constantly worried I'm going to break something.

As I follow Dominic into the Park Ballroom, the worry never gets a foothold because all I can see is how well he fits in here. It's like he flipped that switch again and went into politician mode. I'm quite content to stand over to the side with a cup of coffee and just watch him work the room. It's a thing of beauty really, odd as that sounds. He gives each person he talks to his full attention and then quickly moves on with most of them never realizing they've been worked.

It seems like he wasn't gone anytime, and now he's back with me, speaking low out of the side of his mouth, "Come on, Bobby, let's get out of here before I get cornered again. I'm in no mood for debating."

I have to laugh at that, because I've never seen Dominic when he wasn't up for a good scrap. These political pinheads are usually his favorite targets too. But my throat closes up when he leans close and whispers in my ear, "This is supposed to be a *date*, yeah? Come on."

I'm nodding and walking out with him, but those simple words are shockingly provocative to my suddenly sensitive ears. That's what I want, all right. I want more of his voice shivering down my spine, and more of his body close to mine. But it's too quick, too soon.

Isn't it? Despite the invitation, I *think* I see in his eyes, it is. It is way too soon for this. I need to back away before I blow this. I mean, before I mess it up. Damn it, Bobby, get your mind off that subject. Everything seems provocative right now. From the way he *almost* puts his hand on my back as we go through the front doors to the way he walks very close at my side all the way to the car. And then there's the smile he flashed when we got outside...

Straight white teeth that I want buried in my flesh, sinking into the skin and pulling something dark and mysterious back. I don't know what I want exactly, but I know I want it with Dominic. Is it enough to know that? It'll have to be.

"Seafood sound good to you? I know this little place that the tourists haven't found yet."

His voice is a jolt that brings me back to the subject at hand. Dinner, right? "Yeah, that sounds good. Not many of those places left, eh?"

"No, not so many. This one's great, little family operated joint."

"Sounds good." Oh great, now I'm repeating myself. Gotta get over this awkwardness. It's just Dominic, right? "So, how's your mom doing?"

"Oh, she's fine, doing good." He drives through the heavy evening traffic for a few seconds before he stops at a red light, turns to me, and says, "Why's this so awkward all of a sudden?"

He must have been reading my mind. I hope he doesn't know what else I've been thinking, although maybe it would be easier if he did. He could just take me back to my car and we could end this right now before it gets painful. But for now, all I can do is shrug and say, "I don't know. Shouldn't be, should it?"

"No. It's not like we're a couple of strangers on a blind date, Bobby." He watches the light turn green and then continues on, driving and talking. "I really didn't expect you to say yes, you know. I was actually worried for a moment that you were going to laugh in my face."

"I would never do that." Not when I was a big bundle of nerves myself, but I'm not going to admit that, not yet anyway. "I don't know why anyone would."

He makes a snorting sound as if I just said something ridiculous, but I don't think it is. I can't be the only one who thinks Dominic has plenty of things to offer. He's smart, good looking, and willing to fight hard for what he believes in. That should be enough right there, but there're other things, deeper and harder to label. What's more questionable is why he asked me, of all people, to come out with him.

"Well, I'm sure Patricia could give you a long list." Not the ex-wife, already. This evening is in trouble.

"I'm not interested in talking to Patricia, but I do like being with you." Maybe I shouldn't have been quite that honest, but what the hell. It's out there now. He's smiling so I must not have scared him off.

"Well, okay then. Maybe we should just relax and just let what happens, happen. Sound good?" He's still smiling, and I can't help but return it.

I have to shrug my shoulders to dispel a little of the tension that's pulling them tight before I can say, "Yeah. Relax. No problem."

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

Dominic was right about the restaurant. The people were friendly, and the food was excellent. It was also quiet and relaxed enough to encourage conversation. We've talked about sports and politics and some work-related issues, but now that we're heading back to where my car's parked, we fall quiet again.

This time the silence is not tense and expectant, but much more comfortable. I think we both realize that nothing else is going to happen tonight. The idea of getting involved is kinda scary, no matter how attractive it is--how attractive he is. But despite that low-level fear in my gut, I want to see him again. The evening has been a success, I think, and I'd like to try it again.

"So...Dominic...think we could do this again sometime? Maybe without the suit?" I took off the tie a couple hours ago, but I pull theatrically at the collar of my shirt.

"Yeah, sure, Bobby. I'd like that too." He pulls up next to my car in the nearly deserted parking lot of the building he goes to work in everyday, and I feel a sudden wish that we were somewhere else. I don't know why, but it seems like personal stuff shouldn't happen here, and you can't get much more personal than a date. Well, not in public anyway.

"I've got Canucks tickets for Saturday. You wanna go?" Oh that was smooth, Bob. He'll never know that you've been thinking about asking him ever since you got them.

"Yeah, you bet."

"I'll call you to let you know what time I'll pick you up." Okay, the next date is out of the way, what now? Should I kiss him? Should I wait to see if he makes the first move? Should I just get out and run like hell?

He licks his lips, just a little quick flick of his tongue and I'm leaning forward before I even have time to think. I see a flash of something in his eyes just before we meet over the middle of the seat. We press our lips awkwardly together and then quickly pull back. I grin at him because as kisses go, that was pitiful, and he grins back.

The next one is much better. I take it slow and so does he. His mouth is almost soft, and although the kiss remains of the simple goodnight variety, it brings to mind many images that will surely keep me awake tonight. When I pull away, it's with relief that this has gone so well, and with anticipation, because we have more to look forward to.

I swear the expression in his eyes says the same.

The End.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks and hugs to Mouse for beta, and JaC and Deb for being willing to discuss Bobby and Dominic almost endlessly. And to Nicole for everything.


End file.
